


The Cowboy Hat Stays On

by PiratePlume



Category: All Elite Wrestling, Being The Elite (Web Series)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:01:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21831850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiratePlume/pseuds/PiratePlume
Summary: Directly following the events in episode 183 of Being the Elite; Adam is wandering the halls of the convention center, drunk off Fireball, when he comes across MJF talking to the girl that everyone (except Stella, apparently) knows he has it bad for.  Hangman confronts MJF and finally gets his moment alone with Stella and takes full advantage.
Relationships: Adam Page/Original Female Character(s), Hangman Page/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 26





	The Cowboy Hat Stays On

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, you can all thank vonschweetz and robwiethoff on tumblr for this one because after the latest bte episode with drunk hangman we got on the topic of a smutty fic where hangman shows a girl he has a thing for a porn video on his phone. And as we all knew was gonna happen, I took the bait hook, line, and sinker.

Slug of fireball down his throat, the warm cinnamon burn pleasant down his throat. The room spun, blurry, and he blinked a few times as if it’d clear the drunken haze that’d settled over his eyes. Dumb, happy smile smeared on his lips, Adam clutched the small shot glass and lifted it to his mouth but found it empty. A puzzled frown. He pulled it away and looked at it, borderline offended, as if the alcohol had done it to him on purpose. Disappearing like that. Like he hadn’t been the one who’d just slugged back the shot and could still taste the cinnamon on his tongue.

The alcohol was clearly against him.

Peering through the clear bottom of the glass, a distorted figure in a cute little blue and pink patterned dress appeared and stole his attention away from the lack of Fireball left in his glass. He lowered his hand, the glass with it, and let himself admire every curve of her body he always had to work so fucking hard to pretend he didn’t want to stare at. Standing still in the middle of the convention hall hallway, the drunk cowboy looked on, mouth gently agape, at who he perceived to be an angel before him.

He hadn’t noticed the company she was with, but she glanced at him and saw him staring, and Adam tried to make himself look as presentable as possible. He swayed once in place, the lumbering tree trunk of a man, and blinked, snapping his head upright. He stilled again, and a look of concern briefly crossed her face. She turned back to her company and laid her hand on their arm as she spoke a soft apology, intending to end their conversation short.

That’s when Adam looked at the man she was talking to. Maxwell Jacob Friedman. His mood soured.

Adam stared at her hand on MJF’s arm. Jealousy laced white hot and angry through his veins. His nostrils flared and his teeth pressed together, making the muscle beneath his close-shaven blonde beard jump. He didn’t like that, he thought suddenly, wanting her hand on his arm with that tender touch. MJF didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to be so close to her. Adam glanced down at his forearm as if it burned, staring at the blond-hair dusted skin as if it would tell him why.

He was always too afraid to talk to her like he wanted to. But tonight, after enough shots to make his blood turn to liquor, Adam didn’t care about those kinds of things. He was coming off a winner’s high, the champion who’d pinned Kip Sabien and gotten the win. All on his own. He was a _fucking_ winner.

Winners deserved angels like her.

Adam looked up with determination and confidence in his eyes. His broad shoulders set, and his chin lifted as he walked toward her, quirking a brow at MJF.

“Doesn’t Wardlow need to polish your dick, MJF? Oh! Sorry!” He sucked in a hiss of breath, pretending to be apologetic and ashamed of what he’d just said. “I meant polish your ring. Sorry.” A fake, drunken chuckle. “My bad, man.”

“Oh, you mean the one I beat your ass into the ground for?” MJF shook his head, lips pulling into a sneering grin, “you stupid fucking hick.”

Hangman sucked at the back of his teeth and frowned, that low brow furrowing as his blue eyes glared into MJF’s all-too-smug and absolutely punchable face.

“Oooohhhkaaayy guys,” She started with a low breath, raising her hands between them and drawing their eyes down to her. She smiled at Hangman; hopeful he’d get it through his thick, drunken skull that he needed to calm down.

But Hangman didn’t want to calm down. He wanted to knock Maxwell down to the floor and put a boot in his face, grinding it to the cement until the pompous twat begged him for mercy. His fingers curled into tight fists at his side.

MJF’s eyes flicked downward and saw them. They jumped back up and he smiled wider. He loved getting a reaction out of people, that’s why he did these kinds of things. Hangman wished he couldn’t give him the satisfaction, but controlling his temper was hard when his judgement was so impaired. The only thing keeping him tied back – just barely – was that little angel between them, pleading at him with those pretty hazel eyes.

“Alright _big boy_ , I tell you what,” MJF turned and glanced at the lurking mass that was Wardlow over his shoulder. The idea seemed to finish forming and his smile grew as he nodded confidently and glanced back at a still fuming, drunk Adam. “I’m actually a pretty nice guy and I feel bad for bragging about how hard _**I**_ kicked _your_ ass in that match.”

Adam inhaled deep, his barrel chest swelling beneath that black cotton v-neck tee. The muscle in his thick forearm jumped as he clenched his fist, the warning growl from a dog that’s on the verge of biting.

“ _Okay, **okay,**_ ” MJF coaxed gently, holding out a hand between them as if pleading with Adam to calm down. “Sorry, I get it, that wasn’t cool. I tell you what. This little number that you’ve clearly got a hard-on for is going to kiss the ring you lost to me, and you’re going to watch her do it.”

_“What the **fuck** Maxwell?” _She gasped, offended beside them.

MJF started to lift his hand and Adam’s snapped out, lightning-quick, clapping it with a hard slap as he knocked it back down.

“Adam!” A slight scold in her tone. Adam glanced over at her, but where he’d normally feel ashamed, he just felt angry. Angry that MJF was in their space. Angry that he was reminding him over and over of yet another time he lost right when it was most important. Jericho and the AEW World Title. Pac and the Rubber Match. MJF and the 45k Dynamite Diamond Ring. Adam sucked at his teeth and struggled to keep from rolling his shoulders and popping his neck, ready to swing. He wanted to feel it. He wanted that release. He wanted to see what it looked like when he laid his fist into Maxwell’s face.

“Okay, I don’t know what kind of dick comparing contest you cavemen are playing, but that’s over right now. Maxwell, Adam is clearly drunk and you’re taking advantage of that to goad him. Adam, you’re…” She looked over at him, and his hard glare jumped from MJF to her… and melted a little… just before it set hard again, remembering he was mad because she wasn’t letting him deck MJF.

“Just kiss the ring sweetheart and I’ll gladly go.” Maxwell said, smiling back at her.

Adam lifted his fist and it shook with the tension of holding back.

“Maxwell! You’re such a fucking prick, you’ve had your fun with him, now fuck off!” She pushed her hands into Maxwell’s bicep, but the man didn’t sway. He glanced down where she’d touched him as if offended that she had. Wardlow swayed a little closer in, that lumbering shadow. Her hazel eyes jerked nervously up into that stoic face, which only appeared harder. Meaner. He dared to threaten her. Adam’s heart started to race, and he felt excited and sick and a little dizzy. Adrenaline.

MJF shook his head and Wardlow stepped back, accepting the silent communication that his boss decided he didn’t mind that she’d touched him without permission. Maxwell cleared his throat and turned his eyes on her.

“Okay,” he said as if accepting what she’d ask and leave them be without the kiss. He even offered a smile – but polite as he tried to make it, Adam didn’t trust it – and nodded. “You’re right. I’ve had my fun, Adam clearly isn’t in a good place right now, so I should just go and-” his hand shot up and he pressed the diamonds of the ring against her kissable lips.

Not that Adam knew from experience, but sometimes he caught himself looking at them, daydreaming about how sinfully soft they’d be to press against his. Or sometimes at night he caught himself thinking about them slipping over and around his cock, sliding him on the bed of her wet tongue. His blood rushed, flooding the slowly swelling bulge between his legs.

Her offended cry was all but drown out by MJF’s cry of: “Still counts!”

He turned away in a flash, and Adam reached out, fingers just inches from grabbing hold of Maxwell’s suit jacket sleeve. He scurried away, followed by the wall sized human Wardlow, who paused to stare angrily down at Adam, daring him to chase after Maxwell. But she reached out and put her hand on Adam’s arm, and that touch tethered him back and made chasing MJF pointless. He wouldn’t be leaving her side, especially not to spend the night obsessed over catching Maxwell and beating him bloody. 

Adam dropped his hand to his side and Wardlow turned, stalking in his bosses’ path. Blinking, Adam glanced back at her as she looked at him. That little dress she was wearing looked cute on her, like it was tailored to perfectly sculpt down every rolling curve of her body. She had the kind of hips that made him hungry to grab in his palms, hard enough to bruise. His semi-hard cock twitched in his dark-denim jeans. They were tight enough it just made his package look even larger.

“You look real pretty tonight Stella.” The rage was leaking out of him the longer they were alone together and her attention was all his.

“Yep,” she said and nodded as if he’d confirmed something for her. “You’re wasted. What did you get into?”

He hesitated for only a second but wilted and caved to her pointed stare. “Fireball.” It’s taste was like those red hots she always ate backstage after she won a match and made her breath smell like cinnamon when he made her laugh. He loved the way she laughed. Open and honest, loud. Sometimes she lost her breath, she laughed so hard. He always tried hard to make her laugh when they talked just to see it.

“Oh boy, come here.” She looped her arm through his and tugged him gently toward the push doors and took them into the slightly cooler night outside. “You need to walk and sober up.”

The hall they’d rented was surrounded by a park, but it was late at night and no one was around. She pulled him toward the path that led to a shaded grove of trees, taking in a deep breath for effect. “You need to get some fresh air, Adam,” she chided him and inhaled deep before exhaling again, as if to show him what she meant.

Adam took a breath. His boots scuffed the path a little as they walked, he stumbled and pulled her off her gait a little by mistake with him. “Whoops, sorry,” he mumbled.

“Here, hold up,” she tugged him to a gentle stop just as they entered the shaded part of the path. Enough light spilled on them they could still see each other’s faces. “We don’t have to walk.” She smiled and seemed to bite back a laugh. It made him want to kiss her harder. “We can just stay right here before you fall on your ass and drag me down with you.”

That didn’t sound like a bad idea, dragging her down on top of him. Adam’s tongue pressed out his mouth and licked his lips. His eyes dropped from her gaze and down, where he wanted to lay a firm, hungry kiss.

“Adam?” She asked and snapped him momentarily back to reality.

“I want to show you a video!” He said suddenly, loudly, as if to distract from the fact that he’d just deliberately stared at her mouth.

“Oh-okay.” She said, confusion slowing her voice before she glanced at the phone that he’d tugged quickly from his jeans pocket.

“Hopefully there isn’t another ad this time,” he said and laughed, but she hadn’t been there when he’d tried to show Private Party that video, and only frowned, confused at him.

Adam’s thick fingers jumped across the screen, pulling up the browser. What loaded was the last thing he’d been looking at: a pornographic video he’d found a couple months ago. The girl involved looked strikingly similar to her, so much so that at first, he’d wondered if she’d done a couple amateur films before he was able to pick apart the striking differences. He’d only wanted to see it looked like her, so his brain helped him imagine it, and helped him imagine he was the man thrusting his cock inside her and making her moan so sweet like that.

The video began to auto play and her eyes were expectantly on his screen, there was no helping it. A strange sort of courage washed over him, and Hangman let it play just a few seconds longer than necessary, so a couple moans would leak out of her hung-open mouth, and Stella might wonder if that’s how he wanted her to be. Then, he pressed the screen and shut the video off.

“Uh… Adam? That girl looked… a lot like me.”

“I’m sorry Stella,” he started and laughed awkwardly, reaching to rub at the back of his neck beneath his fluffy curls tucked into his new black cowboy hat. “I didn’t mean to show you that, I…” He glanced at her and hoped in earnest that she wouldn’t be upset.

“Please,” she said and laughed, her eyes darted across his face and she took a small breath, as if needing to draw on some courage to say what she wanted to say next. “You act like I haven’t gone searching for porn with a man that looks like you.”

Adam’s thick, blond brows jumped up into his forehead and his blue eyes, wide, blinked in slow surprise. He gave his head a small shake as if to reset it and stared at her.

“Oh yeah?” The smile across his mouth was a confident one, the sort he wore when he was on a hot streak and felt the crowd reverberating around him, chanting his chants and on their feet, cheering for them. To think Stella tried to watch porn that looked like him, the fact that meant she was into him, and they were alone, no one around them to stop him from finally getting to kiss those lips… Adam felt it was the same type of thrill as winning the crowd.

He reached out and gently caught her wrist, playfully pulling her body closer to his.

“Adam!” She laughed but didn’t have any offense in her tone or try to pull her arm away. She drifted closer to him, if anything, so he tilted his head down and stared down his barrel chest at her looking up at him. Her free hand had come up to rest on his chest, and the skin tingled beneath his shirt to feel even a whisper of her touch.

He dipped lower but didn’t let their lips touch. Inches apart. “How many times did you imagine it was me fucking you when your fingers were between your legs, hm?” His voice was low, from the depth of his chest, and growled just gently with the ravished need hot in his blood.

She gasped and the prettiest pink painted her cheeks like blush. God, she was cute.

He tugged her in hard, making her stumble and catch her body against his. One arm wrapped around the small of her back and pressed her there. His other hand caught her chin and kept her face turned up toward his as he lowered and crashed their mouths together. He was greedy. Demanding. The arm around her back let the hand drop so he could squeeze and grab hard into the fat of her ass. Her little surprised yelp melted into a pleasurable moan on his tongue as he ran it along hers and turned his head to press and kiss her even deeper, nearly pushing their teeth together because he needed her so badly. All those times he’d daydreamed about finally kissing her and reality was so, _so_ much better.

Adam crowded in, bullying her body to step back further into the cloak beneath the branches of the tree until they walked through the curtain of a willow tree’s branches. Tucked back against the trunk they’d be perfectly hidden. No one would be able to see them. Hear them, maybe, but he’d enjoy watching her squirm and hear those soft little whispered, pleading cries squeaking past her firmly pressed together lips, unable to keep herself from doing it.

They broke apart and gasped for air, but a wide palm – his – on her shoulder coaxed her down to the ground and he followed, maneuvering his body smooth over hers, pushing a knee against the inside of hers and coaxing her legs to fall apart and let his hips between them. That dress she was wearing was all too easy to push up, to let his scrambling, reaching fingers find that sweet, tiny little nub of her clit to play with. She squirmed and inhaled sharp, heels kicking into the ground.

“Adam!” She hissed, and he felt how wet she already was when he slipped two fingers in – just barely to pull her wet up and pet her harder. “We’re out in the – _fuckmmmn_ – open!”

“I can’t wait Stella,” he confessed and rubbed in tight, hard circles, letting her suffer with pleasure beneath him. Suffer like he had, watching her and wanting her so badly. Reminding her this was something she wanted to, since she’d confessed to looking up porn of men who looked like him. “I gotta have you right here,” he breathed hot against her neck, bending in to kiss wherever the skin was exposed, sucking and pinching it gently between his teeth.

“Okay,” she caved, and pulled her knees back so she could open her legs wider for him.

“God, Stella,” he moaned in a tight breath, fingers stilling on her pussy. He pulled his hand away and fumbled hurriedly with his belt, pushing his pants and boxers down the curve of his ass and the thick trunks of his thighs to free his hard, already leaking cock. It left a trail of precum against the inside of her thigh as he shuffled forward and gripped it hard, guiding the head against her slit and pushing down until his hips could press forward and get himself an inch inside her.

He moaned low over her open mouth as she whined underneath him, sinking inch by inch, stretching her perfect, warm muscles around him. They stayed still for a minute with him buried inside her, adjusting to the feeling of it without being overwhelmed by everything it meant. Then, Adam pulled back and pushed forward, starting a hard, greedy pace.

It didn’t even feel better to rip it up inside her, but there was something exciting about digging his fingers into the fat over her thighs and using it to slam her down onto his hard, throbbing cock. Having her the way that told her he’d been fucking starved of this. Showing her how fucking crazy she drove him. He liked her so lost by his passion she was robbed of air and not even able to get a moan out, instead squirming under him, panting, breasts heaving with each breath, curling her fingers and toes into the grass and fallen leaves he was fucking her on.

Adam grunted and thrust, feeling the heat of the burn in his muscles and pushing harder. Further. Thirsty for every drop he could guzzle from this experience. This was his new alcohol. **Fuck** Fireball. **Fuck** the AEW world title. **Fuck** the 45k Dynamite Diamond Ring. **Fuck** Pac. He only needed **Stella.** She needed to understand that.

“Stella,” his groan bled into her ear as he pressed his bearded cheek against hers and spilled hot breaths against her skin. His sac was already sucked up to the base of his cock, ready to empty inside her, but he wanted to hold off. He wanted her to lose herself too, be unable to keep from crying his name and come on his cock. If ever AEW came back to this town and preformed in this convention center, Adam wanted to bring her right back to this spot and fuck her with the same ferocity that he did this time. He wanted her to know his passion wasn’t ever going to fade for her. He wanted her to know she was perfect. He hated when she made those self-deprecating jokes about herself. It hurt him, because he hated that she’d been brought up in a world that taught that about herself.

Why didn’t the world teach her about that laugh he loved? Or how sexy her smile was, the way it dimpled up into her rosy-round, quintessentially cute cheeks? How entrancing her mouth was, and how he felt like he’d be dizzy, even sober, if he stared at it too long.

He wanted to. He needed her to know the angel she was to him. That she could be his only saving grace… and he was afraid he was nearing a place he was going to need one.

“ _Oh- **fuck** -_,” she was half whispering, half moaning beneath him. Her cunt squeezed him tighter. Tighter. Adam’s eyes rolled back, and he begged his body to hold off just a second longer. She curled into his chest, burying her face into his shirt. “Adam!” She cried against him, fingers curling into the material and tugging it desperately hard before she jerked and trembled around him, muscles of her cunt milking his cock shoved damn near against her cervix inside her.

A long, boldly loud moan from his mouth could have been heard easily by anyone on the path. His body bucked against her, squeezed himself an inch further in her, straining her as she came, and then jerked. He shook as he came, and that moan didn’t stop until the last push of semen slipped from his cock inside her.

“Fuck,” he exhaled weakly and all but collapsed on her. His body heaved with great, desperate breaths. “Sorry, sorry,” he muttered and pressed a palm against the ground beside her to lift his weight off her body so she could breathe.

“Adam?” She said after a little pause of drawn out silence.

“Yeah?”

“You’re staring.” She laughed softly, a little bit of blush in her cheeks again. The fact that she could blush while he was exhausted over her, cock still twitching and buried in her, drove him mad. He wished he wasn’t so tired. He wished he could start fucking her all over again. And again. And again. And Again. He wanted to fuck her until she was delirious with the gratification only he could grant her.

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against her forehead before leaning back. “I just wanted to make sure I memorized every bit of this view.”

“Oh my God,” she said as if exasperated by him, but he saw how her smile was shy and sweet.

“Hey,” she said suddenly, drawing his attention from her grin back to her hazel eyes, which were on him. They reached up. Her grin spread wider. “The cowboy hat stayed on.”

“Huh?” He lifted a hand and touched it, then laughed. “Hell yeah it did, angel,” he said, playfully cocky, “any good cowboy knows you keep your damn hat on during the ride, no matter how hard the filly bucks.” He gently removed himself from her but didn’t yet start getting up. He wasn’t ready to leave this perfect little moment. He just wanted a few more minutes.

She laughed that full, open laugh, forgetting to care that they were out in the open and could draw attention by anyone lingering nearby. He laughed at her scared expression when she realized it, which made her glare at him, which made him laugh harder.

“Stop!” She tried but couldn’t fight the giggles away herself and lost herself to them, especially when he reached down and playfully tickled her sides. She laughed harder, gasping and kicking under him.

Their laughter joined and trickled gently from their hiding place, the secret lovers tucked away beneath the willow.


End file.
